


My Heart Is a Beating Mess

by Glacy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Character, Groping, Hook-Up, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstanding, Netflix and Chill, No Sex, Sexuality Crisis, Talking, ace_fic2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9717455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glacy/pseuds/Glacy
Summary: European Figure Skating Championship is here. Emil gets invited to Netflix and chill with Seung-gil, who came to train with him for a few weeks. Michele asks if he can come to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the prompt ‘An asexual character getting in some kind of weird trouble by not noticing the obvious sexual subtext.’ The Europeans were held in Ostrava, Czech Republic this year and I feel like that’s where Emil lives.
> 
> If by chance you don’t know about asexuality – it’s the lack of sexual attraction. Some asexuals may be repulsed by sex, some may enjoy sex, and others are indifferent.
> 
> Have fun ;)

„Is nine o’clock fine with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, so,” Emil gave Seung-gil a light push at the shoulder, “I will be expecting you.”

“Uh-huh,” was the only reaction. Emil couldn’t tell if the man in front of him truly wanted to do it. But it was him who came with the suggestion, wasn’t it?

Emil bit his lip and eyed the stoic man in front of him. “Do you… If we were to speak in terms of beds, do you prefer the top bunk or bottom bunk?”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh… well, we will see where the night takes us then,” Emil ruffled his hair. He was used to short snaps and angry glares from Michele but this complete lack of emotions confused him. No, it wasn’t the absence of emotions – more the perfect capability to hide them.

Seung-gil locked eyes with him.

“You can cancel, I would understand,” the dark haired man said as if reading Emil’s thoughts.

“No! I am sorry. You are very attractive and to be honest,” Emil lowered his voice, “I need it.”

“Good,” Seung-gil nodded and turned to leave. Emil wanted to say something, but stopped. A part of him felt like he was losing his mind. _No, it’s fine_ , he told himself, _or at least it’s better than a random hook-up_. And what would he do with his evening instead? Fail to convince Michele and Sara to go clubbing with him and spend the entire evening watching television? Well, for once he would actually understand what was said on the TV, but he didn’t feel like it anyway.

Emil made his way down the hall to the dressing room. He wasn’t surprised to see the male Crispino there. He knew the schedule.

“Done training?”

“Are we ever done?” Michele asked as he stripped the sweat soaked shirt over his head.

Emil gulped and turned his gaze from the well-built chest.

“We can feel accomplishment, right?” he laughed, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Can we? It’s not like any of us ever won gold,” Michele frowned and for some reason started looking for something in his bag. As much as Emil was enjoying his half nudity, it was also a torture.

“Well, we won the nationals.”

Michele scoffed. “Winning nationals? Anyone can do that. Italy is small.”

“Czech Republic smaller.”

“True,” Michele straightened himself, “Haven’t you seen my body spray?”

“I don’t think so. How does it look like?” Emil asked even though he knew. Michele was using the chocolate Axe. Emil once looked at the dark tube in the drug store, considering buying it.

“It’s black and brown, has axe written on it and there are some weird ornaments on it…”

Emil started looking around, but with little luck. He had to try really hard not to stare in Michele’s direction.

“Do you want to use mine?” he asked after a few minutes. He needed Michele to dress. Now. His jeans started being a little tight, so he didn’t wait for an answer and found the body spray in his bag.

“I never took you for an Old Spice guy,” Michele scoffed, but took it.

“You never know what a guy has inside him.” Emil hoped his laugh didn’t sound as tight and awkward to Michele’s ears as to his own.

“That’s true, thanks,” Michele handed him the tube back, “That’s why Sara has to be careful. Guys are jerks.”

“Don’t discriminate! Girls are jerks too,” Emil laughed even though Michele was being dead serious.

“But girls are taught more human decency. The media is pushing men to be jerks – so they are.”

“Wow, Mickey, I never thought you were paying so much attention to this.”

“I am a man full of surprises,” Michele said and there was something on his lips – not exactly a smile. Just a little smirk, corners slightly turned up, so slightly it may have been just the light. He didn’t have any idea how much Emil wanted to know all the aces up his sleeve.

“You are actually the second one who has surprised me today,” Emil said, averting his gaze.

“Really?” Michele frowned and found a clean t-shirt in his bag.

“Yup. And I am afraid Seung-gil beats you,” Emil teased him, relieved the Crispino was finally dressed.

“What? What did the Korean do?”

Emil felt amusement watching Michele’s competitiveness.

“I was invited to Netflix and chill with him,” Emil smiled.

Michele looked at him. Frowned. Then folded his arms on his chest.

“That’s it?”

“Mickey, he invited me to _Netflix and chill!_ ” Emil said, pronouncing the last three words extra carefully.

“And what? Everyone likes a good movie. I can invite you to Netflix and chill too.”

It was Emil’s time to be silent for a few seconds. His heart stopped. His mind stopped.

“Uhm… what? Can you repeat that?”

“I can Netflix and chill. I think everyone can Netflix and chill. What’s so surprising about it?”

They knew each other for years, but suddenly Emil felt like a completely different person was standing before him. On the other hand, Sara was usually with them. Maybe Michele felt awkward talking about this kind of stuff in front of her.

“Nothing, I, uh… do you want to join us perhaps?” Emil tried, his lungs swirling and twisting.

“Well, I want to watch _CentoVetrine_ with Sara…” a pained expression crossed his face, “actually, I haven’t asked her yet…”

“Maybe she has already plans with Mila?” Emil suggested.

“Yeah, that’s probably true. Dammit, I am doing it again!” Michele clanched his fists, “She told me to be independent so… uhm, is it okay for me to come?”

Emil’s heart skipped a beat. He started thinking he may have heart arrhythmia.

“Yes, yes it is!” he said and felt like hugging the Italian man.

Michele eyed him with suspicion. “Really? What are we gonna watch?”

“Uhm, I don’t really know, Seung-gil will probably pick something up.”

“Hmm, I am not sure I trust his taste.”

“It will be fine,” Emil assured him. They could be watching a document about penguins and he wouldn’t mind – it has been to long since he touched anyone in a sexual way, let alone had actual sex. And with Mickey there! Emil felt like he deceased and went to heaven.

“Anyway, when and where am I supposed to arrive?” Michele asked with raised eyebrows.

Emil gave him the address and time, making a mental note to clean up. He was living in Ostrava for half a year now – yet he didn’t touch the detergents even once. His mom payed him a visit one week after he moved in and refused to come ever again until he cleaned up. After a month she gave up and always just pushed away his used clothes to sit down on the couch.

The images of the mess in his flat were flicking through his mind as he skated. _Jesus Christ, why haven’t I at least vacuumed_? Emil wasn’t a living mess, or he didn’t consider himself one. He just had no time to do anything else then crash at his place after a busy day. Even though he didn’t like to study he managed to keep his grades on average level. Not excellent, but certainly not bad. Just mediocre. No one could ask him for more – all his free time was consumed by running, working out and, of course, skating. There were days he almost forgot how to walk.

Yes, skating – it was everything for him. But most of all it was fun. It wasn’t as if he was flying on the ice. Only his mind could wander far away, his body present in the moment. He could always feel his body, doing its best. The chill of the ice quickly turning into ache in his muscles and the sweat on his skin.

Emil jumped. It was out of beat with the music, a jump completely unplanned. He fell.

“Emil!” his coach yelled, quickly getting onto the ice.

“I am fine!” Emil gathered himself up, pain shooting through his right leg. He made sure to conceal it with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I was thinking…”

“I’ve noticed. Go home, Emil, you will only hurt yourself if you stay this distant. You have to give the ice all your heart and mind, you understand? Heart and mind!”

“Heart and mind,” Emil nodded, repeating the words he’d heard countless of times.

He hit the showers, seeking hot water. The touch of drops on his skin was so gentle it reminded him of Michele. Funny, right? The stubborn, easy to anger man. What was gentle about him? What was gentle about the spark of disapproval in his eyes? Emil haven’t liked him from the start. But when he saw Michele skating, he couldn’t help but to fall in love. At first it was the way the older man carried out his jumps, the grace in his every move. Emil started to gravitate towards him and soon he realized he liked him. He liked Michele. He liked him so much. The wrinkle of worry on his forehead and the way he leaned forward while watching Sara skate. There was so much inside him – a whole universe – that Emil wanted to explore.

Emil sighed and turned the tap off. He will explore a part of Michele tonight. A part he never saw before. The excitement made his heart jump. He quickly gathered his things and got dressed. He really should clean up.

*

It was half past eight. The laundry was in the washer, sheets were changed, remaining plants watered, floor wiped and Emil was standing in the bedroom, dressed in his briefs. Staring in his wardrobe he couldn’t find anything to wear. The only clean clothes were either too formal or completely washed out.

“ _Dobrotivý bože_ ,” he sighed and touched his suit. He couldn’t possibly wear that, could he? On the other hand, clothes weren’t going to play a big role in their activities. It may actually be helpful. _No_ , Emil frowned, _Seung-gil doesn’t look like someone with a suit kink_.

After another while of staring into his closet he took out a light green shirt with white skulls on it.

“I guess your time has finally come,” he told the shirt, unbuttoning it. It was a gift from his brother for last Christmas. Emil wasn’t very fond of clothes with death symbols on it – skulls, crosses and ghosts included – but it was this shirt or a seven year old t-shirt with a Scooby-Doo on it.

The bell rang. Emil dropped the shirt. He quickly reached for the Scooby-Doo piece of clothing and pulled it over his head.

“I am coming!” he yelled as he was running to the hallway.

“Hi! Mickey, you are here early…” He pulled the door open and smiled at his first guest who was holding a big bag in his hand. Dammit, he forgot to polish the mirror.

“Good evening,” Michele stepped inside and looked around, “This…”

“My climbing and diving equipment doesn’t fit anywhere, so it’s a little cluttered here, heh,” Emil laughed, poking the snorkel.

“No, It looks, uhm,” Michele was searching for the right word, “kind of… nice. This is a nice place I mean. Location and such.”

Emil was a little startled by the compliment. “Oh, yeah. It’s pretty good.”

Michele took off his leather jacket and hanged it on the coat-stand.

“I brought some beer,” he announced and started marching down the hallway, “We better leave it in the fridge for a minute.”

“Mickey?”

“Yes?” the Italian man turned to him, halfway in the kitchen.

“Can you please take off your shoes?”

“Why?” Michele cocked his eyebrows.

“It’s a thing we do. We take off our shoes at home. Weird, right? But I can get you slippers if you don’t want to walk around in your socks.”

“Oh,” Michele frowned, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

After a short trip to the kitchen and placing the beers in the fridge, Emil took Michele to the living room.

“I suggest we wait for Seung-gil. He should be here any minute,” he said, glancing at the clock.

“Of course,” Michele sat on the edge of the coach.

He looked at Emil. Then at the black screen of the television. Back at Emil.

“Do you perhaps want something to drink?” Emil asked and ruffled his hair with his hand.

“No,” Michele declined and once again looked away, “Emil, I am not really sure about Czech traditions but is being half naked around your guests normal?”

It took Emil a minute before he realized he was not wearing any pants. He felt blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Oh Jesus! Mickey, why haven’t you told me earlier? Sorry, man, I will get dressed!” he ran off to his bedroom. Only after he closed the door and leaned against them it occurred to him. Why was Michele concerned for his partial nudity when they will see each other naked in a few hours? But he decided not to question his friend and found a pair of sweatpants.

He also picked up the poor lime shirt and hang it back into the wardrobe.

“Sorry,” he said as he closed it. The Scooby-Doo was his style.

When he came back to the living room, the TV was on.

“I don’t understand a thing!” Michele complained, furiously switching between channels.

“Don’t worry about it, me neither,” Emil fell next to him on the coach. The news reports were sometimes a bunch of biased nonsense.

“It sounds like everyone is trying to speak and hiss at the same time, what the- what the fuck?” Michele leaned forward, “What the fuck is he doing?”

“Testing if a bread with jam on it falls on the jam side, _duh_ ,” Emil commented, smirking at the sight of the reportage.

“But… why?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know how big the chance that your breakfast will be ruined is?”

“Not really. I don’t eat bread with jam,” Michele scoffed and switched to another channel.

“Sorry, I forgot you are more of a croissant guy.”

“Pfff, I am a frittata man.”

“You will change your preferences when you start living alone,” Emil warned him with a good natured throb to the side.

Michele looked at him. “Living alone is no excuse for bad eating habits. And what the hell are you wearing, Nekola?”

Emil felt a grin forming on his lips. “Jealous of my cool t-shirt?”

“No. I feel only pity. How can you be bad at cooking AND have a questionable fashion sense?” Michele shook his head, “How can you be such a mess, Nekola?”

“I am perfectly organised. Look how clean this place is!” Emil waved his hands around, proud of his last minute work.

“There is a sock hanging from the shelf,” Michele pointed out.

“Oh,” Emil’s smile wavered. _Damn you, stray sock!_ “But my fashion sense is still not questionable. Just comfy.”

Michele covered his face with his hands. “Sure…” he took a deep breath before continuing, “Just remember that bright orange and purple are not very comfortable to look at, ok?”

Emil glanced at his own clothes.

“Wait, they don’t match?”

“No!” Michele groaned, “Look, Emil, I get you are living alone but please ask your mom about clothes sometimes. This is physically painful.”

“Come on, Mickey, there is Scooby-Doo, it can’t be that bad!”

“It is!”

“Nah,” Emil waved it away and took the remote control. “Do you want to watch National Geographic before Seung-gil arrives?”

Michele didn’t have the chance to reply. The doorbell rang.

“I am coming!” Emil jumped up and let the third man in.

“Evening,” Seung-gil greeted him before taking of his shoes.

“I see our cultures have some similarities,” Emil nodded in approval.

“Globalization,” Seung-gil shrugged.

“Do you want slippers?”

“No, I am fine.”

“Cool. Michele is already here. Oh, do you want a beer? Or something else to drink, or a snack?”

“No, I am completely fine,” Seung-gil refused, following Emil to the living room.

“Hey,” Michele managed to smile weekly on the Korean.

“Evening.”

Seung-gil positioned himself on the far away corner of the sofa, as far from Michele as possible. Emil found it amusing.

“I am gonna get us some beer and then we can start. Fine with you, lads?” he asked and turned, before hearing their answers.

“I don’t want to drink…” Seung-gil’s complaint wasn’t heard.

After a bit of arguing over what to watch (Emil was fighting for _Daredevil_ ), they’ve settled on _The Crown_. It was new, charmingly British and it had Matt Smith in it.

Emil turned off the lights and hopped on the coach between the two men. He hoped there will be a sex scene soon. Because when else start a true Netflix and chill session?

After the first few minutes all his thoughts about sex have vanished. The show was good. Very, very good. His eyes were glued to the screen. In a moment when he was pulled from this trance he caught Seung-gil feeding himself a hand full of popcorn. Smile flickered on his lips. He never took Seung-gil for a popcorn guy. On the other hand Michele was clutching his can of beer. Emil had no idea if Michele picked the first brand he saw or actually did some research, but he chose a good one. Gambrinus Original was one of Emil’s favourites.

A sudden expression of shock crossed Michele’s face, his eyes widening in horror by the sudden turn of events. Emil chuckled, his companions not paying any attention to him, too pulled into the story.

The light from the screen broke on Michele’s profile. His eyes shone. Emil’s heart skipped a beat. He had to turn back to the television.

It took him a few minutes of staring at the screen to muster the courage to place his hand on Michele’s thig. He felt the Italian man flex against his touch, but quickly relax. 

Emil started slowly scratching Michele’s thig.

“Uhm,” Michele straightened his back, “Emil, don’t touch me there.”

Emil cocked his eyebrows. He wouldn’t believe that Michele was so straight-forward. He felt his heart racing in his chest, the beats so strong his companions had to hear it.

“Alright,” he said as he exhaled and placed his hand on Michele’s crotch.

“What the fuck, Emil?!” Michele jumped up, spilling his beer on the floor.

“What happened? Did I hurt you?” Emil stood up, confused.

“The fuck? Oh my god, Emil, why would you… Jesus fucking Christ why? Ugh, that’s so disgusting!” Michele shuddered.

“What’s going on?” Seung-gil asked from the coach.

“He – he touched me! Emil fucking groped me! Jesus fucking Christ, man, you can’t just do that! That’s so dickheaded of you!”

Emil felt his face frowning. “Mickey, I never meant to break your comfort zone, but I thought-”

“Well, whatever was it you thought, it was wrong! So very fucking wrong!” Michele started pacing the room.

“I will turn on the lights,” Emil said, giving himself the time to think.

“Jesus, I stepped into something!” Michele yelled.

“That’s the beer you’ve spilled,” Seung-gil commented.

“I will get a towel!”

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Michele looked like he was about to start pacing again.

“Don’t move, you will make a mess,” Seung-gil pointed out.

“I will make a mess?! Emil is a mess, he….” Michele gesticulated toward the door where the blond man disappeared, “why aren’t you disgusted?!”

“That’s what we came here for,” the Korean said, looking straight into Michele’s eyes.

“What?”

Seung-gil sighed and started fumbling with his phone. Then he handed the device to Michele.

The Crispino stared at the screen.

“What?”

“You don’t understand?”

“I… I thought we were just gonna have a movie night!”

“You were wrong,” Seung-gil remarked, stood and snatched the phone from Michele’s hand.

“But… that… so… why?”

“Because we wanted to.”

“But why?” Michele didn’t understand. Seung-gil gave him a look, eyebrows frowning a little.

“What do you mean by _why_?” he asked.

“Like… why would you want to have-”

“Mickey I brought you slippers!” Emil stormed into the room with a towel and a pair of blue UGG look-alikes.

Seung-gil turned toward him. “I am going to go.”

“What? No! Why?” Emil cried.

“I don’t like drama,” Seung-gil said simply, glancing at Michele before making his way to the door.

“Seung-gil, wait!”

The Korean actually stopped and turned. Emil’s breath shuddered. Seung-gil pasted him, took the bowl still half-full with popcorn and disappeared once again into the hallway.

The door clicked.

“Can you finally clean this mess up?” Michele asked when Emil turned toward him. The corners of Emil’s lips were down, a sad expression lingering on his face.

“Can I?” the Czech asked.

“I… Look, it seems you two wanted to do some, ugh, _things_ , so give me the slippers, clean your floor and call Seung-gil.”

“And you?”

“I will be fine. I’ll go back to my hotel room and play _The Witcher_ or something.”

“I,” Emil bit his lip before looking straight into Michele’s eyes, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It was fucking weird, man, not gonna lie,” Michele said and placed one of his hands on the back of his neck, “Like… I don’t actually know why you would do this.”

“This?” Emil didn’t understand.

“Why would you watch a movie just to not actually watch it and have, well, an intercourse instead? Movies are way better then sex.”

“Uhm, what?!” Emil shook his head, “Mickey, what are you talking about?”

“What?”

“What _what_?”

They stared at each other.

“Movies are in no way better than sex,” Emil said finally, slowly.

“They are. I actually don’t understand why someone would like to have sex. It’s sweaty and exhausting and pretty disgusting if you ask me,” Michele shuddered, repulsed by the idea of two bodies twisting around each other.

“It’s like music,” Emil opposed.

“What are you saying, Nekola? Sex is weird!”

“I like sex.”

“Nah, no one actually likes sex,” Michele shook his head.

“Mickey, everyone kinda love it.”

Michele thought Emil was just trying to be funny, but his friend’s voice was serious. He felt a weird feeling inside his guts. It was this twisting thought that he tried so hard to suppress. The thought that he was different.

“I,” he gulped, “I always thought it was just a thing people said. Just the cool thing to say.”

“Mickey, do you want to sit down?” Emil asked, taking a step toward him.

“I don’t know,” Michele admitted, brows frowned, “Emil, do you… find people sexually arousing?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Emil laughed a little nervously and darted his gaze away before resting his eyes on Michele again. The Crispino finally understood that look. Emil was looking at him the same way in the dressing room earlier this day.

“Oh god,” Michele’s legs gave up and he fell onto the couch.

“Mickey?! Mickey, do you feel sick? Should I bring you a glass of water? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Emil rushed next to him, kneeling next to the sofa.

“It’s just…”

A wave of hot air swept over him. He covered his face with his hands.

“I am weird.”

“What are you saying, Mickey? You are clever and beautiful.”

It was the first time someone who didn’t share his blood called him that.

“In this order?” Michele asked, looking through his fingers on the man before him.

“Of course! And you are also athletic, energetic and a good human being.”

“Why aren’t you calling me kind?” Michele asked, folding his arms on his chest.

“Well,” Emil ruffled his hair, “You can be a little moody sometimes and lash at people.”

“Oh, so you are basically calling me mean.”

“See what I mean?” Emil gave him a meek smile.

Michele shook his head and scoffed. “You are awful, Emil Nekola.”

Emil nodded, his hand lingering in the air for a moment. He wanted to place his palm on Michele’s thigh but changed his mind. He was kneeling in spilled beer, slippers and a towel still in hand. It was not the best moment. It was not a good time and place to say what he had on his mind for months now. Heck, it may have been even years.

“Mickey, I-” his voice broke down.

“What?” Michele asked, cocking one eyebrow.

“I, ehm, I will… You should take off those socks. They smell like beer.”

“Of course they do, I’ve stepped into beer, remember?” Michele rolled his eyes.

Emil laughed and shifted so he wasn’t as close. “Can I?” he asked, placing a hand on Michele’s feet.

“I guess?”

Emil started stripping the socks off of Michele’s feet. He would lie if he said that the Italian man had nice feet. No skater could possibly have nice feet. Emil touched one of the calluses. Then he started lightly wiping Michele’s feet with the towel.

Neither of them said anything for a while.

Emil felt he can’t say those words anymore. Not ever. Michele was disgusted by him. By the thought of having sex with him.

“I am really sorry, Mickey,” he whispered as he took one slipper and put it on his friend’s feet, “Can you forgive me? Can we be friends?”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Half an hour ago you wanted to rip my head off!”

“Yeah, but I now know it was a misunderstanding. Even though you should have stopped when I asked you to.”

“I thought you wanted to be touched on a different place!”

“I will specify it next time then,” Michele said with a sigh.

“Next time?” Emil stared at him.

“Stop acting so surprised, I love to spend time with you, you idiot!” Michele wiggled almost punching Emil with his knee.

“Oh,” was all Emil managed to say. Then the words sank in. A wide smile spread on his lips.

“You love me, Mickey?”

Michele’s cheeks turned red. “And who said that nonsense?”

“You said you love to spend time with me.”

“You won’t get any confession from me, Emil, I am still a little mad at you.”

“That’s fair,” Emil smiled and seated himself next to Mickey, not too close but not at the other end of the couch either. _The Crown_ ended and the TV was now just a black screen. The silence was deafening.

“Dang it!” Emil swore and turned to face Mickey, “I like you. I like you very, very much and would like to be your favourite person in the whole universe because that’s who you are to me.”

Michele looked at him. Raised his eyebrows. Nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emil was about to throw up.

“I… look, I’ve just had a big revelation that I don’t like sex even though everyone seems to love it. So, can you give me some time to think?” Michele couldn’t look into Emil’s eyes as he said it. It has been years – for years he told himself that everyone felt the same as him but put on a mask. Sex was a taboo in the past so now media tried to make it the new trend. Michele just couldn’t believe someone would actually want to connect genitals with someone else. It seemed so unappealing to him.

“Mickey, you know I would do anything for you.”

One quick glance into Emil’s eyes told him the blond man meant it. Michele exhaled.

“Nah, you refused to eat the tuna I made,” he said with a faint smile.

“Mickey, I am a vegetarian!” Emil exclaimed.

“Oh, so now you are using excuses?”

“It’s not an excuse it’s who I am!”

“Well, and I don’t do sex. Not ever. That’s probably the way I am. Accept it or leave it,” Michele folded his arms on his chest.

Emil didn’t even hesitate with his answer.

“A relationship is not only sex. I can always masturbate while watching your skating on YouTube,” he grinned.

“Oh, that’s disgusting!” Michele scoffed, grimacing, “Never say something like that again!”

“Too much information?”

“Yes!” Michele shook his head and looked at the idiot beside him, “Are we gonna watch another episode or do you just want to sit here for the rest of the evening?”

“I clean the beer and get changed, you select the next episode?”

“Maybe we should rewatch the second half first?” Michele suggested.

“That sounds like a plan,” Emil said and got up.

Michele reached for his arm and pulled the taller man into a kiss. Emil forgot to close his eyes. Michele’s lips tasted of beer and were a little rough. He must have forgotten to use lip balm after training. Emil never felt happier.

“You can’t just leave without a kiss,” Michele murmured when they separated.

“So your thinking is over?” Emil asked with a smile. He was prepared to give Michele time. Time to think. Time to figure out who he was. All the time in the world.

“Just don’t touch me bellow my hips for now,” Michele instructed him.

“I can do that,” Emil saluted him and stood.

“Good,” Michele said. He could still feel the pressure of Emil’s lips on his own. He watched the Czech man’s back and knew. The feeling rising in his chest, the warmth, the sense of safety. He loved this man. And Emil seemed to care about him. They can work through the lack of Michele’s sexual attraction. They can and they will.

**Author's Note:**

> Dobrotivý Bože - Good Lord
> 
> Whoosh, thanks for reading! Comments always make my day, so don’t hesitate to drop one down here.


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